


Patchwork

by mapleprincess



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Death Stranding Spoilers, Family, Family Feels, Post Ending, will update the tags as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapleprincess/pseuds/mapleprincess
Summary: When Sam steps outside, a rainbow greets him- the real thing, not the upside down rainbow he's grown used to fear.He can't think of a better sight to welcome Lou out of her pod.This story takes place over the course of six years, and follows a father and his daughter as they learn to live in a world that is still being rebuilt, piece by piece.[On hiatus until January 2021.]
Relationships: BB-28 | Louise & Sam Porter Bridges
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Day 0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to this story!  
> Death Stranding is a masterpiece, and I couldn't help but feel inspired by its wonderful story, world and characters. So, here's a story about Sam taking care of Lou and raising her :)  
> As said in the summary, the 26 chapters will take place over 6 years. Each of them will be a snapshot of their lives, and other characters will join the story as it progresses.  
> Updates will be on every Tuesday, and just in case I'm unable to finish a chapter on time, I try to always have at least one written in advance.  
> As English isn't my mothertongue, there's almost certainly going to be some mistakes, misspellings or grammatical errors; please feel free to point them out!  
> With all of that being said, enjoy!!

When the warm sun rays bathe them in their welcoming glow, and a rainbow – a real, _normal_ rainbow with all its seven colors – shines over them, Sam holds Lou close, protecting her still but letting her enjoy the fair weather and beautiful view. He gets lost in watching the rainbow arch over the surrounding plains, marveling at getting to see the full spectrum of color for the first time in what seems like centuries. Cuddling his shoulder, Lou’s bright eyes are transfixed on the same spectacle, and she coos in awe and appreciation, one of her tiny hands reaching towards the rainbow.

It’s only when tears start silently rolling down his cheeks that Sam shakes his head, remembering he has urgent things to do – namely, find clothes and food for Lou. She’s spent almost a year in her pod, which took care of everything, providing her warmth, nutrients and protection. But now that the capsule is nothing more than shattered pieces of glass floating in a puddle of amniotic liquid on the floor of an incinerator, Sam is going to have to provide all of that for her.

Holding Lou tight, making sure to let her some room to breathe while still having her in a protective and close embrace, Sam starts making his way down the hill. There’s no rush for the moment; Die-Hardman will probably not notice him going offline before at least a few hours. The new president of the UCA has a busy schedule, and now that the Sixth Extinction isn’t a threat hanging over their heads anymore, Sam and Lou are probably at the bottom of his to-do list.

Still, Sam runs, afraid that Lou will catch a cold. The weather is pleasant, but Lou’s naked, and she seems so small, so frail, especially outside of her pod, that Sam can’t help but worry about her. She’s strong, he knows it better than anyone else, but it can’t hurt to fuss a bit over her. And as Sam makes his way to a nearby safe house, he almost chuckles at how worried he’s getting about a simple cold, when the two of them have been through so much worse. It’s a bit destabilizing, the sheer banality of his concern, and it draws another laugh from him.

* * *

The sky is starting to turn orange when they reach the nearest safe house, and Lou’s long fallen asleep in Sam’s arms. Her small fists are holding on to his jacket, and her head is resting against his torso. The porter is careful in his motions, trying not to wake her – she needs sleep, perhaps more than regular newborns.  
However, the blaring sirens of the lift taking him and Lou underground wakes her up, and she lets a small cry out. She isn’t scared in the least – after all, Lou’s more than used to the weirdly comforting sound.

Sam presses a delicate kiss on top of her head as he steps inside the private room. It feels… strange, in a good way; they’ve spent so much time together during their grueling journey, yet he’s only been able to truly hold the infant for mere hours. Lou coos in appreciation, her fingers wiggling in the general direction of her caretaker; Sam finds himself smiling fondly, as often when interacting with the baby.

“How is it outside the pod, huh? Pretty fuckin’ great, right, Lou?”

As if she understands him – and maybe she does, after all, Lou’s pretty advanced and full of surprises – the baby bobs her head and babbles, sending spit flying everywhere.

“We’ll work on your manners later.” Sam falsely chastises her. “For now, how about dinner?”

His own stomach has been rumbling for a while, but he guesses Lou mustn’t be that hungry, since she hasn’t cried through the whole journey from the incinerator. But better safe than sorry, so with Lou still in his arms, he makes his way towards the small food cupboard all safe houses have and looks at what’s inside.  
Sam wrinkles his nose in disgust: there’s only dehydrated cryptobiotes, which taste worse than the fresh ones and aren’t closely as nutritious, but it’ll have to do. However, he’s pleased to find a small box with dehydrated milk in a corner. All safe houses are equipped with a few supplies for babies and children – not a lot of people have those nowadays, but it’s standard Bridges protocol, and for once Sam is thankful for their foresight.

Lou in one hand, close against his shoulder, and a packet of milk in the other, Sam makes his way to the bed. With all the daintiness and gentleness in his body, the porter lies her down on the clean sheets, petting her head for a moment. It had been a surprise to find out that she has just a minuscule tuft of hair; there’s so little of it, and the strands are so thin that Sam is afraid the simple brushing motion will tear them away. But it doesn’t, and Lou seems very happy with the large hand tenderly petting her scalp.

“You’re too cute for your own good.” Sam smiles. “But let’s not get sidetracked.”

Keeping an eye on Lou, who’s happily wriggling on the bed, Sam gets up and grabs a small baby bottle from the cupboard, makes his way to the sink and starts to prepare Lou’s meal.

His hands shake lightly when he opens the bottle and fills it with hot water, memories of him and Lucy eagerly attending parenting classes coming back to the surface of his tired mind. It’s not the first baby bottle Sam’s prepared, but it’s the first that will fulfill its intended purpose, and the thought is enough to choke him up.  
Sam blinks a tear away, concentrating on the task at hand. Making sure to also focus on keeping his breathing even, he mixes the milk in the bottle, shaking it so he ends up with more than enough milk to feed Lou. After testing the solution’s temperature by letting some drops fall on the back of his hand, Sam sits on the bed, and finds a very curious baby tilting her head while eyeing the bottle he’s holding.

“Yeah, kiddo. That’s your first meal.”

Flashing a grin at Lou, who mimics it tenfold, Sam puts the bottle on the nightstand so he can lift her and hold her properly. He’s reminded she’s naked, which is definitely something he’ll have to fix later – but for now, dinner.

Sam presents Lou the bottle, and she blinks at it, then at Sam, then back at the bottle, which the porter can’t help but find endearing.

“ _Bon appétit_ , Lou.”

Sam presses the tip of the bottle against her lips, and Lou catches on immediately, her instincts taking over. She eagerly starts drinking the warm milk, her fingers coming to rest on the bottle and trying to tilt it further towards her.

“You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?” Sam chuckles, amused that even though Lou didn’t seem very hungry, she’s more than happy to have her meal. “That’s a good thing. You need those calories.”

But soon, Lou’s eyes start to flutter shut, and she’s barely drinking. It’s clear that she’s falling asleep, and honestly, Sam can’t blame her. She’s experienced so much in the span of a few hours: being out of her pod, feeling air surround her instead of water, breathing in the smell of grass and earth for the first time, feeling Sam hold her close without layers of metal and liquid between them, getting her first meal.

The porter puts the bottle back on the nightstand and holds Lou against his shoulder, very lightly tapping against her back. She burps a little, and falls asleep immediately after, her breathing slowing down and becoming even. Sam holds her for a little bit more, then dims the room’s lights and lays her down on the bed. Making as little noise as possible, the porter grabs the covers neatly folded on the edge of the bed and arranges them around Lou, creating a nest of sort to keep her cozy and warm.

Time seems to stop as Sam simply watches her sleep. Lou’s body is so tiny, almost lost in the sea of fabric around her, so frail, and yet… the strength it holds is beyond imagination, a paradox Sam still can’t truly grasp. Silence falls on the two of them, only broken by the small whimpers Lou makes in her sleep as she wriggles. Sam tries to soothe her by holding one of her hands, hoping the small gesture conveys the immensity of his love for her, and soon Lou calms down, having seemingly found peace in her sleep.

Careful not to wake her, Sam stands up and makes his way to the cupboard. He quickly snacks on some of the dried cryptobiotes, grimacing at the terrible, bitter taste they leave in his mouth, before gathering a few supplies in the room, relieved to find everything he needs.

Taking a glance at Lou from time to time, Sam gets to work. He’s always been pretty crafty, which is a very useful skill to have as a porter, and he’s happy to put that ability to good use. From time to time, he makes his way to the bed as silently as possible and checks if his work in progress – clothes for Lou – will fit her.

Sam works quickly, cutting fabric from the spare suits he found on the racks of the safe house, sewing them together, and in under two hours he’s finished a whole outfit for Lou. There’s a vest, a shirt, a coat and pants, as well as socks and a hat. It’s not perfect: one of the shirt’s sleeves is longer than the other, and it all looks a bit wonky, but it’ll make do until he finds proper clothes.  
Sam sets them on the nightstand, not wanting to wake Lou up. She’s still wrapped in the blanket, which is enough to keep her warm for now. Besides, his eyes are starting to feel heavy, and Sam can feel the familiar weight creeping on his shoulder, the same weight of fatigue that always catches up with him when making deliveries and walking for too long. For once, he immediately decides to give in to the coat of cloudy lead; Sam’s thankful the bed is large enough for two, because it allows him to gently move Lou on one side, leaving him some room to move a bit in his sleep without risking to hurt her.

For the first time since he’s burnt them, Sam is a bit regretful he doesn’t have the cuffs anymore; it would have been useful to prevent him from moving too much in his sleep, which tends to happen when he has nightmares – that is to say, almost every night.  
So the porter makes do, using his strand, making sure the bind is tight enough to keep him still but still loose enough not to hurt him.

Before turning the lights off, Sam looks one last time at Lou’s sleeping form, and he feels so at peace sleep seizes him almost immediately.


	2. Day 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Today's chapter is a bit short, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)   
> In unrelated news, I got the results from the resit exams I took last week, and I PASSED THEM ALL!!! I'm so happy!!
> 
> Enjoy!

The journey has been tough, between not being spotted by the Bridges porters wandering the now BT-free expanses of American land, avoiding MULEs (Sam isn’t against fighting them directly, he has before, but this time he has a baby in a makeshift fabric baby carrier and not in a sturdy pod) and finding food and shelter. But Sam is now rewarded, sitting on the comfortable carpet near his new bed, in what he has chosen for a new home.

 _Home_. The word feels almost foreign on his tongue. It’s been so long since he’s last said it, since he last felt like he could bestow the title of “home” upon a house. And sure, the abandoned prepper shelter at the foot of the mountains needs some work, both on the inside and on the outside; but it has everything the two of them need to survive for at least a few months, and it’s guaranteed to offer them the quiet and anonymity Sam’s been seeking far before burning his cuffs.

There’s even a tiny crib for Lou, which leads Sam to guess the shelter has once belonged to a family who must have left for a place they hoped wasn’t swarming with BTs. Not that Sam really cares; what matters _now_ is that the area is BT-free (and, on top of that, far from any MULEs campgrounds) and that everything in the house was covered in thick layers of dust when he broke in, which makes the odds of its former owners coming back very low.

The crib is the first thing Sam has fixed in the shelter; thankfully, it didn’t need much repair. There was even enough junk and paint left for him to craft a mobile, one themed around the moon and the stars Lou loves to watch when the night falls and she’s just had her dinner, and Sam takes her outside after wrapping her in a blanket.

Now, she has a miniature replica of sorts hanging above her crib, and Sam could spend hours looking at Lou stretching her arms towards the moving shapes, babbling as she does her best to reach the mobile. Sometimes, he helps her, taking her in his arms and gently lifting her up so she can put her hands on the wooden stars and curiously stroke them while laughing at her victory.

Sam is also thankful the shelter had some baby clothes – some fit Lou, while others are too big, which is a relief about her wardrobe for the months to come. Even though the timefall is no more, the clothes he’s sewn Lou have almost fallen apart; granted, the thread holding them together wasn’t of the best quality. For now, she has a few clothes he can cycle between, which is more than he hoped to find.

As for his own garments, while every safe house had at least four suits in almost pristine condition, they all bore the Bridges logo, and Sam feels disgusted at the mere thought of wearing one of them again. Thankfully, in the fifth safe house he had visited, plain clothes had been waiting for him, and Sam had made sure to leave with all the bland, logo-less suits he had found there.

For now, the suits are hanging in his bedroom’s closet, facing Lou’s crib and changing table. Sam is wearing fatigues and a warm sweater he’s found lying in the shelter; it’s barely April, and the nights get cold, especially in the mountains. Lou is sitting in his lap, her hands struggling to hold a plushie taller than her. It’s a teddy bear she’s fell in love with after Sam’s found it in one of Bridges’ safe houses and gave it to her.

“You know, Lou…” he starts, his voice low, as always when talking to the baby in the evening, before he tucks her in her crib. “I’ve been thinkin’. You need a name- a family name.”

It’s something that’s popped in his mind around the third day after deserting Bridges, and it’s stayed there since. And that thought has led to another- what about his own name?  
“Sam Porter Bridges” simply doesn’t… feel _right_ anymore. It sounds hollow, and Sam can’t put his finger on why. His thoughts keep coming back to twelve days ago, when he got to somewhat “properly” meet his father, and when the man called him “Sam Bridges”. But that doesn’t feel right either, although it doesn’t feel entirely wrong. After all, Cliff’s words about him being a bridge to his future have touched him deeper that he could have imagined, and foregoing the “Bridges” name entirely would feel like severing his ties with the man – and with his mother, his _real_ mother.

And as Lou is babbling to her teddy bear, Sam’s left hand plays with the dog tags hanging around his neck. Under the room’s dimmed lights, the metal almost looks warm, and Sam can feel the ghost of his father’s final, kind embrace around him.

Clifford Unger. A man braver than stories can tell, who loved his son so much he simply couldn’t pass to the other side after his death, his sheer rage at the people who ripped the infant away from him tethering him to the world of the living. A man who wanted nothing more than to protect his family, and who failed despite his most valiant efforts, driving him to destructive despair.

As his fingers toy with his father’s dog tags, Sam finally comes to a decision.

He gently removes the stuffed bear from Lou’s precarious grip; at first, the baby pouts and almost glares at Sam when he turns her around, but her expression changes when she sees Sam’s face, how serious he looks.

“OK, Lou. I’ve come up with somethin’, I hope you’ll like it.”

Lou’s bright eyes look at Sam, her gaze never leaving the porter’s stressed expression. Sam almost feels stupid- he shouldn’t sound so serious, he shouldn’t sound so stressed out, but he is, because he of all people knows how important a name is.

“From today, I am Samuel Bridges Unger, and you are Louise Unger. Do you like it?”

As if she understands, Louise gives Sam a wide smile before snuggling against him, laughing as she hugs him tight. Sam laughs as well, his eyes watering with something akin to relief, as if he’s leaving a huge weight behind him.

“I’m glad you do.”

Sam tenderly cradles Lou and pets her hair, watching her eyes shut close and her breathing slow down until it reaches a calm, steady rhythm. Sam presses a gentle kiss on her forehead, brushing aside a few hairs, and then he makes his way to the crib in the corner of the room, tucking Lou in, making sure she’s warm while still having enough room to move during her sleep if she needs to.  
Before going to bed himself, drained from the nervous release from moments earlier, Sam makes sure to grab Lou’s teddy bear and to slip it against her, under the pastel blue blanket.

“Goodnight, Louise.” Sam whispers. “My strong, brave warrior.”


End file.
